


the drums are calling

by lester_sheehan



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lester_sheehan/pseuds/lester_sheehan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thought I’d try my hand at writing a short drabble about Catherine de Medici (Reign), set around the time Bash finds her in the snow, after the incident with Diane.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the drums are calling

**Author's Note:**

> Debated posting this as it doesn't quite seem good enough to go on AO3, but here goes.

Catherine sat in her chair, hands locked tight and eyes fixated on the wall. With her lips pinned together, she dared not breathe. Fingers dug deep into her nails, drawing blood that trickled like sweet wine, and her right leg jostled softly.

In the corner of her room, though she refused to look at them head on, the phantom figures of her husband and long-passed girls remained. Their hands were linked, and their silhouettes were laced with fading light, as though they were no more than a trick of the mind- which, Catherine supposed, was true.

But if they brought her joy, if seeing them alive and well gave her happiness, then did it matter? She was no fool- she knew that these images were not real- and yet, she did not wish to send them away. 

She could not lose them for a second time. 

They beckoned for her to join them, and she contemplated it, she really did, imagined how the glass of the mirror would feel, cracked and jagged against her skin; pictured the red seeping from the wound, a river with broken banks; and wondered just how long it would take for her to drift, to reach a state of nothingness after the life had been drained from within. 

She picked her nails more vigorously, hissing when she dug too deep. What had she become?

Henry had been killed for his madness, and now Catherine wondered just how far her son’s loyalties lied. Her mind flit back to Diane, and she closed her eyes- not in shame, for how can one grieve the murderer of her own darlings, but in fear of what might now happen to her. Who would look after her remaining children, should Francis lack mercy? Who would mourn for her death?

The total came to a grand zero. 

“Mother?” Eyes swimming, Francis stood at the door. Catherine startled slightly before raising her eyebrows, inviting him to continue. “Bash said that he found you outside, in the snow."

“Did he now?” she muttered, gaze dropping to her hands. “I must have fallen asleep. It was an accident.”

“I know that I’ve been busy,” Francis ventured, “but-”

“My boy, I am fine. You have larger issues at hand.”

He nodded once, graciously, before backing out of the room, leaving Catherine alone with her demons.


End file.
